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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22548508">Get a Dog, They Said.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NDKiwi/pseuds/NDKiwi'>NDKiwi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 15:40:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,210</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22548508</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NDKiwi/pseuds/NDKiwi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft Holmes is a busy and powerful man.  What does he do to stave off the loneliness?  Gets a dog of course.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mycroft Holmes &amp; Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Sherlock (BBC)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Get a Dog, They Said.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/gifts">janto321 (FaceofMer)</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was based off another prompt from the list, wont say cuz it will give the plot away.  Wrote this as a gift for janto321 who was having a rather stressful surgery today and has been there for me in tough times.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mycroft was a busy man.  He was an important one as well, though he played that down.  Being so powerful and constantly putting out fires around the world from his office at home or in the heart of London or even in the air only left him more and more bereft of companionship.  He was lonely.  Being surrounded by simpering lackys all day did not a friendship make.  When he went back to his large, empty townhome, it just left him feeling more lonely. No one to share his love of noir films or fine food.  No one to listen to his woes and praises.  Talking to the walls could only keep one sane for so long and one night stands with approved and vetted lovers didn’t appeal to him anymore.  He wanted someone that would not share his secrets with those that sought to hurt him.  Someone who didn’t see him through money-tinted glasses.  Someone that he could bring with him to work and travel.  The perfect solution was a dog.</p>
<p>The red and black brindle long-haired dachshund had caught his eye when his assistant had sent him the link.  Her name was Ginger;she was only eighteen months old and oh-so sweet.  He immediately contacted the dog rescue and informed them he would be there later that day to get her.  He spent the morning at the pet supply shop getting her the best beds, clothes, and food money could buy.  Mycroft spent far too long deciding on the type of shampoo she would need and if he wanted to sign her up for training classes already.  When he left, hands laden with bags they his driver stored in the boot, he was getting excited.</p>
<p>Mycorft noticed a silver haired man silently wringing his hands and getting to be very agitated standing near the end of the row of cages as he knelt to attach a collar and lead to his new friend. The dog was all wriggly, tongue hanging out, tail cutting the air like a sword as it swished to and fro.  He stood and turned to the attendant.  </p>
<p>“What's the matter with that man over there?” He inquired as they headed in his direction to the office to get the paperwork settled.</p>
<p>“Oh.  That's Mr. Lestrade.  Greg Lestrade.  He works for Scotland Yard and he has been coming to see Ginger for almost a month, every day.  He helped us walk her and spent play time with her.”  The young woman looked sad.  “I think he wanted to adopt her but was trying to wait he got into his new place.  Said his ex-wife hated dogs and the flat he has been in since has a no pet policy.”  She explained in a low voice as they drew near to him.</p>
<p>Ginger saw the man that had become her companion while she had been there and her wiggle became even worse.  She tugged at the lead to get to him, yipping happily when he crouched down and scratched her ears.  </p>
<p>“Now now, little one.  You are going to have an amazing home.  Looks like you will be pampered far more than I ever could have.”  Greg told her, his voice very near breaking as he pressed his forehead against her furry snout and kissed the tip of her nose.  When he stood, eyes barely containing tears, he looked at Mycroft.  “She is a special one.  Take good care of her, yeah?”</p>
<p>“I endeavour to, sir.” Mycroft replied solemnly before they left.  </p>
<p>It was only a quarter of an hour later and he was leading a very excited Ginger out the door and towards the waiting car when he saw the man walking across the street.  He picked the dog up into his arms and hurried across the road after checking for traffic.  </p>
<p>“Mr. Lestrade!  Wait!”  He called.  When Mycroft reached him, he was almost out of breath.  Ginger panted in his arms, mouth in a clear grin.  “Would you like to come back to mine to help me get her settled?  You are familiar to her and it may be good for her.”</p>
<p>“Really?  I mean, I don't even know you.  You could be like Ted Bundy and luring me into your car with the promise of a puppy.”  Greg deadpanned and then burst out laughing.  The sound caught Mycroft off guard.</p>
<p>“I can assure you I am not a serial killer of any sort.” Mycroft frowned indignantly.</p>
<p>“I'm sorry.  Sorry.  Just joking.”  Greg caught his breath from laughing.  “What is your name anyway?  I mean, clearly you know mine.  I assume the rescue staff told you my sob story.”</p>
<p>“They did, yes.  My name is Mycroft Holmes.” He held out his free hand toward Greg, who took it and shook it as Ginger stretched out to lick the joined hands.</p>
<p>“Pleased to meet you.  And obviously Ginger has already taken a shine to you, so you must be alright.”  Greg flashed a half smile that did things to Mycroft who cleared his throat after releasing his hand.</p>
<p>“Good.  I have formed quite an attachment to her already as well.”  Mycroft admitted freely.  “Now my offer stands.  Would you like to come help me get her settled?  I can provide dinner.”</p>
<p>“Dinner, you say?” Greg quirked an eyebrow, eye twinkling.  “Can honestly say this is not the most unusual pick up line I’ve ever had.”</p>
<p>“No.  What?  Pick up line?  I wasn’t...you aren’t...not what I normally…”. Mycroft blabbered on, flabbergasted and thrown off.  His normally cool and collected demeanor thrown off kilter.</p>
<p>“Calm down, Mycroft, I was only kidding.” Laugher rang deep and rich from Greg again.  “Just breathe.  And yes, I'd like to come get Ginger settled in.  I want to make sure she is spoiled absolutely rotten.  I am a Detective Inspector for the Yard.  Might have to check in at regular intervals to assess her welfare needs.”</p>
<p>Nodding, Mycroft swallowed.  This was certainly not how he had envisioned this turning out.  “Of course.  Now shall we go?  I think the little deviant wants to be held by you.  My car is this way.”  He handed the squirming dog over, who immediately painted Greg's face with kisses.  </p>
<p>They crossed the street and the driver held the doors.  Sliding inside, Mycroft glanced at the man beside him that was all smiles and speaking to Ginger as if she hung the moon.  A little bit of the ice man's heart melted right there and he allowed himself to have hope. It seemed that deciding to get a dog could lead to more.  He only had to not muck it up.</p>
<p>“How do you feel about Italian food?”  He asked as nonchalantly as he could muster.</p>
<p>“As long as it’s authentic and not from a frozen food aisle, I'm all for it.  I even cook a mean chicken parm.”  Greg grinned happily as his fingers stroked through Ginger’s fur.</p>
<p>“Well perhaps one day, you can make it for Ginger and I.”  The obvious suggestion being that they would see each other again hung in the air between them for a moment.</p>
<p>“I’d like nothing better.” The reply was partnered with another wider smile from Greg and Mycroft found himself grinning back.</p>
<p>“So would I.”</p>
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